The Vanishing Year
by Coltan Heart
Summary: One year ago, Casey McDonald disappeared, devastating her family.  But just when they start to lose hope, she comes back with a boy named Trevor.  But is there still a place for her in the home and the lives of the ones she left behind? slightly AU Dasey
1. This Feels So Unreal

Disclaimer: I do not own "Life With Derek" or any of its characters. Neither do I own any of the lyrics used as quotes (noted) or as chapter titles (which come from the song quoted). This goes for every chapter, but this is the only one which I will post this disclaimer in. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Chapter 1: This Feels So Unreal**

_I'm on my knees  
Only memories  
Are left for me to hold_  
- Kate Havnevik, _Grace_

Rolling over in bed, Nora came face to face with her eldest daughter--or, rather, the substitute that would never come close to her. Frozen in time, a fifteen-year old Casey beamed at her, all big blue eyes and white teeth. She took a moment to gaze at her lost child. She should have been finishing up her junior year. Maybe she was doing just that. But for all Nora knew, Casey could have been lying dead on the side of the road.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Nora reached over for the remote on the nightstand. As the mother pressed play, the television screen--added to their bedroom at her insistence--sprung vividly to life and there she was.

_"_Der_-ek!" Casey whirled around, glaring and curling her fists as she prepared to free the beast within. Her face was covered in sticky green paste that any woman or teenage girl would have recognized immediately was some kind of beauty mask. "You have _no_ consideration for anyone in this house besides yourself!" Derek matched her step for step, keeping out of hitting distance. "You don't even look after _Marti_ half the time because your head is too far up your own ass, trying to protect itself!" She screeched like a banshee._

_"Hey! That's not true. I _always_ look after Marti," Derek snapped back defensively. _

_"Ha!" It appeared that Casey had temporarily forgotten her current state because her eyes lit up with the spark of battle. "What about the time when she collapsed under your hockey equipment and you were too busy trying to convince me to lie for you to stop and help her? Huh?"_ _There was a pause._

_"What about the time that you made Lizzie sneak into my room to steal _my_ White Stripes tickets?" Derek shot back off camera. A look of guilt flashed across Casey's face. It was quickly replaced with fierce determination._

_"What about the time when you made Edwin stay up all night to work on _your_ science project?"_

_"Hey! I _paid_ him!"_

_"Well, what about the way you turn Edwin into your own personal slave?"_

_"It's no different from you using _Lizzie_, Mrs. Pot." Casey gasped in outrage. Then she picked up a large pillow and started beating him with it. "Derek! You, you, _ugh!_"_

_"Hey! Watch the camera!" At which point, the camera rattled and went to fuzz just before going black._

After a moment, the screen was once again full of color and another scene with Casey played out before her eyes. Nora mouthed along with the words, she had memorized them so very long ago.

"Nora?" George's voice called her tentatively. The brunette tried to tear her eyes from the screen, but she just couldn't. '_Not today._' Any other day, she could and _would_ have, but on the one-year anniversary, it just wasn't possible.

"Yeah, honey?" she managed to answer, still transfixed.

"Do you want some breakfast?" She didn't hear him. George crossed the room, carrying a large tray full of breakfast food. "Nora?" He gently shook her shoulder. Acting on raw impulse, Nora wrenched her arm out of his grip and pulled herself away from him.

"Just leave me alone!" she shouted. George teetered back and forth a bit, but steadied himself and gave her a worried look. Quickly pressing pause, she motioned for him to put the tray on the nightstand and as soon as he complied, she embraced him tightly and apologized profusely. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, George then kissed her forehead and drew her in closer.

"It's okay, sweetie. I know. I know," he said soothingly.

"Oh, George, I don't think she's _ever_ coming back," Nora moaned, heart aching with the deepest sorrow. Lost for words, her husband just rubbed her back in an attempt to ease her pain.

In the beginning, George had always replied to such statements with reassurances that _of course_ Casey would return. But as the months went by, his "of course" turned into "maybe" and then avoidance. They had talked to many grief counselors, but George was never sure whose advice he should listen to. Two of them thought that George should continue to fill Nora with hope of a positive outcome, but three others thought that he needed to ground her in the truth. Terrified of shattering his wife, George teetered in-between the two and said neither. Unbeknownst to him, Nora wished more than anything--other than the return of her missing child, that is--that he would _just_ _say_ _something_.

When George returned to the kitchen to finish making breakfast, he found Lizzie and Edwin had beat him to it. Lizzie was scrambling eggs and Edwin was frying up bacon.

"Thanks, guys," he said appreciatively, patting his stepdaughter's shoulder and ruffling his son's hair. It hadn't escaped George's notice how much the middle children had stepped up to help out after that fateful day. Despite how hard the loss had been on them, especially Lizzie, both had often pressed on to do what was best for the family, especially when it came to Marti. '_Speaking of Marti, she should be up by now. Maybe I should go check on her._'

"Hey, have either of you seen Marti yet today?" George asked.

"She slept with Derek last night," Edwin answered. After a pause he added, "I don't think she wanted to be alone last night."

"Oh. Well, I'll them be then." As soon as the blonde picked up the mail key and left the room, Lizzie shot Edwin a meaningful glance.

"Yeah, I know that she said that she didn't want _him_ to be alone, but I think it's still true." Rolling her eyes, Lizzie turned off the burner and turned to grab plates from the cabinet. She counted out five and then pulled out glasses for the two of them.

"What do you want to drink?" she asked as she pulled open the fridge door.

"Um, I'll take milk," Edwin decided.

"Okay." Lizzie poured a glass of milk for Edwin and then chose orange juice for herself. Frowning, the second youngest Venturi turned off the burner on his side and scraped the bacon onto a side plate. Then he served himself and his stepsister, trying to ignore the strained silence filling the room.

When they sat down at the kitchen island and started eating, Edwin decided to say something.

"Are you okay?" Lizzie froze for a moment, her expression flat and impossible to read.

"I don't want to talk about it," she answered quietly, sounding firm, but not angry.

"But, we always talk about stuff."

"Not today, Edwin. I don't want to talk about it today," she replied, her voice rising dangerously.

"Okay, but I'm here if you change your mind," he offered sweetly. He swallowed and looked down at his plate. They ate in silence for a few minutes more, then Edwin decided to try again. "I understand how you feel Lizzie. We all really miss her."

As soon as he lifted his gaze to look at her, Edwin realized that he had said the wrong thing. The anger that he had incited in his best friend was written all over his face.

"No you don't. You don't understand _anything_!" She dropped her fork and jumped out of her chair. "She was my _sister_! _You_ just lived with her for a few years! That doesn't mean that you get to call her 'family' or pretend that you miss her as much as I do. You _still have_ Marti and Derek! You see them every day and you know that they're still alive and okay when you see them every morning!" Tears were streaming down her face as she vented all of her anger and pain on Edwin, whose eyes were wide with shock and fear. "You weren't _abandoned_ by your sister!" Then Lizzie fled the room, running up the stairs as her chest heaved with painful sobs.

Edwin was glued to his seat, stunned and a little hurt by his stepsister's reaction. They had _all_ loved Casey. He knew that he wasn't _really_ Casey's younger brother, but he had often felt like he was and he missed her. He _worried_ about her. Where had she gone? What was she doing? Why wouldn't she call? Didn't she care? His chest constricted as he ignored the voice that whispered, '_Is she even alive?_' He didn't want to consider the possibility that there was any possible answer other than yes.

* * *

When Derek woke up, he was alone in his bed. '_Marti probably got hungry and couldn't wait any longer._' His stomach growled hungrily at the thought of food, but then he remembered what day it was. A feeling of loss crept over him and Derek decided that he just wanted to find Marti. Though he would never admit it to anyone else, it had been a great comfort to have his little sister with him the night before. 

The house was oddly quiet, but he supposed that it wasn't too abnormal considering the grief that they were all so painfully reminded of on that particular day. Still, when he walked down the stairs and was greeted with an empty living room, he was surprised. He had expected to find Marti sitting on the couch, eating breakfast while she watched cartoons. '_Maybe Dad is making her eat at the table._' But chills were slowly creeping up his spine as he hesitantly walked to the kitchen. There was no noise to indicate that anyone else was even home.

"Hello?" he called to the empty house, panic seizing his stomach in vice-like grip. There was no answer. Walking quickly, Derek crossed the room and knocked on the basement door. Again, he got no reply. When he walked down the stairs and checked inside the room, there was no one there. He ran back up the stairs and then up to the second floor.

"Lizzie?" he called anxiously, pounding on her door. He waited about thirty seconds before he opened it and, once again, found only an empty bedroom. Without bothering to close the door, Derek jogged out of her room and up to the attic. "Edwin?" His voice was rising with fear as he suddenly found it more difficult to breathe. '_Where are they?_' Pausing for two seconds, he then barged into his little brother's room and almost wasn't surprised to see that he was gone.

Running now, he stumbled on the stairs and caught himself on the railing as adrenaline shot through his veins like a jet stream. '_Where_ is_ everyone?_' Eyes darting around wildly, he then caught sight of Marti's door. '_Of course! How could I forget about Marti? Surely, Marti will be there._'

He walked slowly to her room, fear keeping him from opening the door. '_Don't be stupid._' Ripping the door open, he was greeted with another empty room. His heart thudded painfully in his chest. '_Not Marti._' Derek whirled around and ran for the stairs. Maybe he had missed something. Surely, they had all gone out to breakfast and left him a note or something like that. But he combed the kitchen and living room with meticulous precision and came up empty-handed.

Desperate for answers, he ran out the front door and onto the lawn. '_Emily!_' By this point, he just wanted to see a familiar face. It didn't matter much whose it was. So he skidded to a stop on their front porch and impatiently banged on their door several times. Then he rang the bell continuously, looking through the windows on the door to look for a sign that someone was home. The house was empty.

Stumbling backwards, he looked around and noticed that he was the only one out on the street. Considering that it was probably mid-morning or almost noon, this was very abnormal. Derek set out at a run and started heading towards nowhere in particular.

"Hello?" He huffed and panted as he looked around wildly, searching for some indication that he wasn't the only one left. Suddenly he found himself in front of Sam's house. "Sam?" He threw open the front door without a moment's hesitation and darted through the living room and kitchen. There wasn't another person in sight. He hurtled up the stairs and barreled into his best friend's room. "Sam?"

After he checked the rest of the house, he stumbled back out into the street.

"Hello? Is anybody out there?" '_I can't be the only one left. They _can't_ all be gone!_' "Hello?"

* * *

"No!" Derek's eyes shot open and he felt the slick of sweat on the back of his neck and the edges of his face. 

"Smerek?" Big doe brown eyes appeared in his line of vision and he relaxed a little. "Smerek, are you okay?" Marti asked, concern lining her face as she gazed down at her older brother.

"Just a bad dream, Smarti," Derek assured her as he pulled her down for a hug. His arms tightened as fear and a great sense of loss swelled in his chest. "Just a bad dream." Thinking about Casey, his eyes drifted to the picture pinned onto the wall by his computer. It was a picture of the two of them at Casey's sixteenth birthday party.

They had grown closer over that year and though they still bickered and even fought a lot, they had also become friends. When they posed, Derek had his arm slung casually around her waist and Casey had her arm around his back as she leaned on his shoulder. But when the picture snapped, the birthday girl was partially bent over--caught mid-laugh--and Derek was laughing too, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. If you looked over at his fingers digging into her tender sides, you'd understand why.

_"_Der-_ek," a giggle, "stop!"_

"Smerek?" He snapped back to the present and turned to smile at his sister. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." Ruffling her hair affectionately, Derek sat up and gently deposited Marti on the floor. "You go get dressed and I'll meet you in the kitchen, okay, Smarti?"

"Okay, Smerek!" Grinning widely, happy to see that her big brother was all right, the little girl skipped out of the room and went straight into the bathroom. Derek closed his door with a rueful smile and got dressed himself, glad that he had showered the night before.

As he combed his hair, looking in the mirror, his mind flew back to one of the many moments that had haunted his memory since she had left.

_"Well, fine, Derek. If us, McDonalds have taken over your house then maybe we should just leave!" Casey yelled, almost looking tearful._

_"Oh, right, like I believe that for a second," he snapped, following her down the stairs. He barely registered the sight of Lizzie, Edwin, and Marti watching TV on the sofa before he continued, "You won't be satisfied until every last one of us is a freaky robotic droid, like _you,_" he sneered. _

_"Oh, so now it's just _me_ who's the problem?" Casey demanded, fear flashing briefly in her eyes. Derek went for the kill._

_"Do you notice anyone butting in to defend you?" The teenage girl's face fell and pride swelled in her stepbrother's chest._ Victory!_' A grin spread across his face as silence filled the air. "Well, I guess you've got your answer."_

_"All right then. I'll go," she proclaimed defiantly, hesitation written all over her face. She was hoping that someone would jump up and declare that they wanted her to stay._

_"Sure, sure, Drama Queen."_

_"I mean it!" Casey insisted, turning to her sister and stepsiblings on the couch--praying that one of them would stop her from going. A fierce determination filled her eyes as she started towards the door. "Guys, I'm really leaving and don't even try to stop me because I'm _gone_!"_

_"We won't," Derek assured her as he grabbed her from behind. Casey jumped in surprise as he pushed her the rest of the way to the door. Still holding on to her, he opened the door for her and handed her things as he nudged her the rest of the way out. Then, smirking triumphantly, he closed the door in her face--ignoring her shocked and pained expression._

Derek rubbed his temple, as if he could somehow wipe the memory from his mind by doing so. He couldn't spend the whole day wallowing in guilt. His family needed him. _Marti_ needed him. So, steeling himself for the day ahead, he left his room in search of his younger sister.

* * *

It was a quiet day in the Macdonald-Venturi household. Besides talking to Marti, the rest of the family didn't really speak to each other unless it was necessary. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts and memories of the girl who had been gone for so long. 

When George passed by Casey's room on his way to fix the sink faucet in the upstairs bathroom, he paused and his mind rolled back to shortly before his stepdaughter vanished.

_After Casey refused to come down to dinner, it was George who went upstairs to talk to her. He patiently knocked on her door and waited to be invited in._

_"Who is it?" she called from inside, trying to sound as if she hadn't been crying._

_"It's me," George answered. "Can I come in?"_

_"Sure." Opening the door, he saw Casey sitting at her desk, putting her journal into a drawer. The blonde stepped inside and gently shut the door behind him, knowing that his teenage stepdaughter would want her privacy. George sat down on the bed and patted next to him in hopes that she would join him. Slightly reluctantly, she complied with his request._

_"What's wrong, Casey?" The girl in question shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Despite the fact that they grown closer over the last few years, she still felt awkward talking to her stepfather about her problems. It was easier for her to talk to Lizzie or her mother, but since he was sweet enough to try to help, Casey felt that she ought to at least _try_ to talk to him._

_"I just," she stopped and swallowed nervously, "I've been having a hard time with the family lately," she confessed, not meeting his eyes. George nodded in silent agreement. "I mean, things have never been that smooth around here, but it's been kind of chaotic lately."_

_"I wouldn't worry about it too much, Casey. Things will go back to normal. You'll see," he assured her. Casey didn't look convinced, but when George opened his arms to hug her, she awkwardly returned the embrace._

'_I wish I had taken her more seriously._' The stepfather's eyes flicked to the stairs. How many times had he watched her run up those stairs looking distraught in those last few months? How often had he shrugged it off as teenage drama when deep down he knew that the problems were much more serious? That old familiar feeling of guilt plagued him once again. '_We should've listened to Paul. Maybe if we'd just _tried_ family counseling…_' With a sigh, he passed the chillingly empty room. '_There's no point in dwelling on the past when you can't change it._'

* * *

After sulking in her room all morning--since breakfast--Lizzie leaned against her door and listened for noise in the hallway. After a couple of minutes passed without a sound, she determined that it was safe to venture out from her room. Begging the hinges to be quiet, she carefully peeled open her door and sneaked across the hall to Casey's room. Whether she came back or not, it would _always_ be Casey's room. It alone would stand as a silent monument to the otherwise forgotten girl who had once lived there. When all of the pictures were put away, and the home movies were locked up in boxes and hidden away on tall shelves, that room would remain the same--always waiting for her to come home. 

Lizzie walked inside--the door was open for that day--and looked at all of her sister's belongings that had been left behind. She walked slowly and softly, feeling as if she was walking on hollowed ground and somehow defiling it by her presence. Though she knew that Casey had been gone for a year, and her mother had spent countless nights in that room, Lizzie felt as if her sister would walk in at any moment and chastise her for invading her privacy. She wished she would.

A strange urge overcame the youngest McDonald to touch her sister's possessions, a part of her feeling as if somehow, somewhere, Casey might know and be so incited with anger that she would be forced to return. So, after a moment of hesitation, Lizzie sat down at Casey's makeup table and picked up the blush brush. She dipped it into the pink powder and then gently swiped it across her cheek. Then she held her breath.

After a minute passed, she put the brush back down and was overcome with disappointment. It wasn't as if she _really_ thought that it would work, but she was desperate and missed her older sibling horribly. A spark of anger flickered inside of her. '_How could she do this to me? How could she just _leave_ me like this?_' Lizzie jumped to her feet, sending the chair sprawling to the floor. Normally, she would've winced and felt a little embarrassed, but no such feelings rose up in her. As a matter of fact, it had felt good, _really_ good.

'_Ha! It would drive Casey crazy if she knew that something wasn't in its proper place._' Acting of their own volition, her fingers snaked out and tipped a can of pencils onto the floor. A thrill shot through her. '_Well, _that's_ going to take a while to clean up._' A book followed. '_Too bad you're not here to do it_.'

Then everything blurred together. Suddenly, CD cases were flying at the wall and books were being chucked across the room. Pictures and posters were savagely ripped down from where they hung and were flung over her shoulder. Blood boiled in her veins and her heart beat wildly in her chest. She wanted to destroy everything. She wanted to take apart the room that her sister had so painstakingly put together. She wanted to cause so much damage that--wherever she was--Casey would feel it, and it would hurt.

* * *

Derek was startled out of a daze when he heard a loud crash coming from upstairs. He turned his head and listened. There was a loud bang and it sounded as if it was coming from Casey's room. 

"Hey, Marti, you stay here and finish watching cartoons. I'm going to go upstairs, okay?"

"Okay." Derek plucked his sister off of his lap and placed her in front of his recliner. Then he stood up and placed her in his former spot with care.

Taking the steps two at a time, George's eldest son raced to the top and ripped open Casey's door. Then he froze to the spot, horrified by the sight before him. '_I can't believe it._' Taking in the scene around him, he really _couldn't_ believe it. It was complete chaos. Books, CD's, journals, posters, pictures, clothing…it was a disaster.

"Lizzie, what are you _doing_?" He cried incredulously.

"Why does it matter?" she yelled, picking up a vase and chucking it at the wall. The smash was incredibly satisfying to _her_ ears, but something inside of Derek ached. "She's _not_ coming back." Blindsided, Derek's mouth fluttered open and shut repeatedly.

"You don't know that," he replied defensively, wide-eyed and breathless. It felt something akin to having a gigantic Band-Aid ripped off, taking tiny pieces of skin along with it.

"Of course I do! We _all_ do," Lizzie retorted harshly. Derek wanted to shake her and snap her out of the crazy fit that he was sure she was having. "Face the facts, _Derek_," she spat out his name, "Casey abandoned us and she is _never_ coming home." Then she laughed bitterly. "This isn't even her home anymore! She's made that painfully clear." Lizzie's eyes flashed with fury. "And I hate her."

"Lizzie--"

"I do, Derek! I _hate_ Casey and I hope that she _never_ comes back!"

The room was encompassed by silence and then there was a tiny, sharp intake of air. Both pairs of eyes searched out the sound and fell on the small, shocked, _frightened_ little girl. Marti's eyes filled with tears and she flew from the room without a word.

"Marti! Wait!" Derek sped after her, mind whirling as he tried to figure out exactly how much she could have heard. His sister was by no means a fragile girl, but he'd seen the look of devastation on her face when she realized that the note was no joke--and Casey was truly gone, if only for a while--and knew that it wouldn't take much more for her to crumble.

The bathroom door slammed in his face and the lock clicked with finality. He knocked gently, hands shaking with trepidation.

"Smarti?" '_Months…a whole _year_ of working so hard to protect her from all this and in one moment, Lizzie spoils everything._'

"Go away, Derek!" He frowned in confusion. She only responded to "Smarti" with "Derek" instead of "Smerek" when she was mad at him.

"Come on, Smarti, let me in," he entreated.

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because you gave up! You don't think she's coming back either. No one does!" Soft sniffles and sobs leaked through the cracks in the doorframe. "That's why she won't come home. She thinks that no one wants her here!"

"Marti, that's not true," Derek insisted. '_Well, the part about me giving up isn't anyway._' "I think that Casey _is_ coming back," he added half-heartedly. Did he _really_ still believe that, or was he just in denial? Derek wasn't sure.

"No you don't! You don't and you're a liar!"

"What's going on?" Edwin asked, coming up beside him. Derek jumped a little, wondering where Edwin had come from.

"I'll explain later. Go talk to Lizzie, okay? She's in Casey's room." He looked wary, but nodded and did as he was told.

"Lizzie?" Edwin peeked into Casey's room, but his stepsister was nowhere to be seen. Looking around at the wreckage, he quickly figured out what had happened. He spun around and headed for Lizzie's room, assuming that she had retreated there. Edwin knocked on her door and though he heard shuffling around inside, no one answered. "Come on, Liz. Let me in." Suddenly, the door flew open and Lizzie stood in front of him, looking coldly furious.

"Only on one condition."

"Okay," Ed prompted.

"No Casey talk."

"But--" Edwin sighed in defeat. "Just let me ask you one thing." After a moment of silent contemplation, Lizzie nodded and let him inside her room. He walked in and sat down on her bed. "Why?"

"Because I'm tired of her selfishness. Casey thinks about no one but herself. She didn't care that she devastated the entire family when she left," Lizzie answered, walking around her room and spot cleaning. She seemed oblivious to how similar she was behaving to the girl that she proclaimed to despise.

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do. Why hasn't she come back? Why hasn't she even _called_? I'll tell you why. She doesn't give a damn."

"Lizzie, this isn't like you."

"Sure it is." Edwin stood up and grasped her by the shoulders.

"No, it _isn't_. The Lizzie I know has never been so callous." She shrugged him off and walked back to her door.

"Fine. Maybe I _have_ changed," she ripped a picture of her and Casey off of the wall. "Maybe I _am_ callous." Lizzie shred the picture in half and then repeated the process until it all fluttered into her trash can in tiny pieces. "When your body is exposed to the same kind of damage over and over again, you eventually adapt and the skin becomes tougher, thicker. Why should your heart be any different?"

He had no answer for that.

* * *

A/N: So, I hope this chapter turned out all right. It's hard to keep everyone in character when emotions are running high and you have to try to predict how each one would react in this kind of situation. I did my best and hopefully it doesn't suck. Lol. I know that this chapter's kind of boring, but I promise that they will get better. I just felt that I had to address their loss before I could move on with the plot. 

I made a trailer to go along with this (or, actually, I made this story to go along with my trailer). Since the link wouldn't copy, just go to my profile and click on my homepage. Under my videos, you'll see one titled "Trailer - The Vanishing Year". That's the one.


	2. Somewhere to Go to

**Chapter 02 - Somewhere to Go to**

_"And I give it all away  
Just to have  
Somewhere to go to  
Give it all away  
To have someone  
To come home to"_  
- Linkin Park, _My December_

'_Home._' The word made her chest pang with longing. How much time had passed since she had run away from home? She knew it was somewhere around a year, but she couldn't pin down the exact day or even week. '_If I'd only planned it better…_' A snort escaped her lips. Running away wasn't really something she had planned at all--not in depth. She hadn't had enough time. Everything had been building up for months and then suddenly, the orchestra swelled, all eyes were on her, and she made her choice.

Of course, to say that no one else had a hand in it would be unfair to the blue-eyed teenager. She had done wrong by them--betrayed them even--but they had done the same thing to her.

_"Why do you have to ruin _everything?_" Lizzie demanded, storming out of the kitchen. Casey followed her, panic-stricken as she wrung her hands together._

_"I…I didn't…" Casey swallowed thickly. "I was just trying to help."_

_"Oh you were trying to help all right." The eldest sister winced, muscles tensing in an attempt to brace herself for the blow that she knew was coming. "You were trying to help yourself, as always," she snapped._

_"No, I just--"_

_"You just can't _stand_ that we were all happy for once! You _never _wanted us to become a real family and now, thanks to _you_, it's been ruined for the rest of us!"_

_"You don't understand," Casey's tone was pleading. '_Why won't she listen to me?

_"Yes, I do. I understand perfectly and I hate you for spoiling this for me!" Lizzie sniffed as tears leaked out of her eyes. " I hate George for backing down and I hate Mom for listening to you. I _hate_ this family!" Mouth wide open, the teenage girl watched her sister fly up the stairs in tears._

_"Wait! I'm _sorry!_"_

That was the last conversation that she had with her little sister. Oh, Casey had tried to talk to Lizzie after that, but her apologies and pleas fell on unforgiving ears. After nine days of the silent treatment, she felt like someone had shoved her heart in a blender--while it was still beating inside her chest.

And, as fate would have it, that week they were studying families in their Sociology class. So, Casey was running around frantically, conducting interviews and filming her family. Derek and Emily offered to help her out and she gladly took them up on it. Given the very serious legal proceedings taking place in their household at the time, Casey was reluctant to record her family on video, but she had no other choice. Well, she could have failed--except for the fact that she was Casey McDonald and she _never_ failed _anything_.

_"Okay, Edwin, I need you to tell me a little bit about how you feel about your siblings and the kind of relationships you share with them," Casey prompted passionately. Edwin turned around from the washer and dryer. _

_"My siblings? You mean Derek and Marti, right?" He paused and Casey's stomach flip-flopped. '_He knows._' "'Cause, apparently, I only have one brother and _one_ sister."_

_"Uh, _yeah_, Ed. We can do the math. Get on with it," Derek replied flippantly. _

_"Don't forget Lizzie and I." The younger brother's eyes flashed angrily. _

_"Oh, you mean my _step_siblings?" Edwin spat angrily. "Because apparently I'm not good enough to be your _real_ brother, _am_ I?"_

_"Edwin, what are you talking about?" Derek asked incredulously, looking at his little brother as if he had flipped his lid. _

_"I'm talking about _Casey_ talking_ Nora_ out of letting Dad adopt her and Lizzie." Derek's eyebrows rose in surprise. Casey's face fell._

_"It's not like that," she said softly. "I just--"_

_"You just care more about your _stupid_ dad and _his_ feelings than you do about _our _dad!" Edwin accused. Then he added in a softer tone, "You care more about someone who basically _abandoned_ you than about any of us." Casey's heart broke for him. Everyone was taking it the wrong way. _No one_ understood her._

_"Edwin, you're my stepbrother," she started._

_"Not anymore!" he finished, stomping out of the laundry room._

_Knowing better than to follow him, Casey turned to face her other stepbrother. _

_"Is it true?" _

_"Derek--"_

_"Is…it…true?" he repeated sternly. _

_"No!" she protested, pacing back and forth. "I _do_ care about you--_all_ of you," she clarified. "And I would _love_ to be a Venturi." That part was true. But Casey had fantasized about becoming a Venturi in an _entirely_ different way--one that involved her wearing a white dress and Derek clad in a tuxedo. "I just…" '_Here's your chance. _Tell_ him._' She gulped nervously and tears pricked her eyes. '_I just don't want to be your sister! And I'm afraid that if I change my name, I'll never see my real dad again.

_"Then what's the problem?" Derek asked impatiently. '_I love you! I'm _in_ love with you, Derek, and I have been for the past four months. And the crazy thing is, I think you feel the same way, but you just haven't realized it yet.

_"I just don't want to hurt my dad," Casey half-lied as salty tears dripped slowly from her eyes. By the way his eyes darkened, she knew that she had lost him forever. It wasn't fair. Why should she have to choose?_

_"So, what about _my_ dad? You know--the one who's actually there for you every day?_

_"Derek--" _

_"The one who goes to your dance recitals." His words felt like a sucker punch. Not only did she feel guilty about George, but years of flowers in place of her father weighed heavy on her heart. To that day she couldn't stand the sight of red roses._

_"Derek--" She begged him to stop with her eyes._

_"And helps you with your math homework." _

_"Stop it."_

_"And eats dinner with us _every _night."_

_"Derek, _please._" Tears spilled from her eyes._

_"And--"_

_"Just _stop_ it!" Casey yelled, slapping him hard across the face. Shock registered on both of their faces. Neither could believe it. "Derek, I--" _

_"Save the apology for someone who gives a damn," Derek growled as he roughly shoved past her._

Suddenly, Casey felt wetness on her cheek. Looking up, another drop of water fell on her forehead. The sky was filled with massive gray storm clouds and it was probably going to start pouring soon. Her gaze flickered back to the house. She didn't want to leave, not yet. She just wanted to stand there a moment longer. Cold, wet raindrops started pelting her from the sky, but she just couldn't bring herself to move. '_Home._' The word echoed throughout her mind, urging her feet to root to the spot or, better yet, cross the street. Memories flooded her brain with such insistence that Casey couldn't stop them.

_"George, you know…I mean, you understand why I can't do it, right?" she asked timidly, eyes flickering between the floor and the cabinets. They rested anywhere but on her stepfather._

_"Of course I do." He put his hand on her shoulder and her eyes finally met his. "I would never want to try to take your father's place or do anything to keep you from him." Though his words were kind and sincere, as she met his gaze, Casey saw sadness in his eyes. Another knot formed in her stomach. She never wanted to hurt George. She loved him as much as her biological father. But even if Derek hadn't been an issue, she just couldn't let him adopt her. It would feel like she was cutting her own dad out of her life and estranged though he was, she couldn't bear the thought of losing him forever._

_"Thank you." Then Casey leaned forward and captured him in a hug, hoping that he realized that she loved him just as much as her own father. '_Please don't make me choose.

Suddenly, she was filled with an overwhelming urge to see them. She just wanted a glimpse. It had been _so_ long. Her feet moved forward, even as her mind fervently protested. After being ignored for a year, her heart was finally taking over. '_Just a glance. It's dark and rainy, so the light inside the house will reflect off of the glass. They won't see me._'

As she stepped tentatively onto the front walk, her heart thudded in her chest. Adrenaline hummed inside her veins. She was going to see them. Casey let her feet carry her up to the front door. Then she crept over to the window, where the curtains remained open. Cocking her head to the side, fingers gripping the grainy wall for support, she leaned over slightly so that she could take a look. '_Just a further._'

"What are you doing?" a voice asked from behind her. She jumped and lost her grip on the house, stumbling backward. Familiar arms caught her and she heaved a sigh of relief.

"Trevor, you scared me," she admonished him.

"Yeah, well, you're lucky that _I_ found you--not the police or whoever lives here. What are you doing sneaking around somebody's house?" He pushed her back up and, gently grasping her upper arm, started pulling her in the opposite direction of where she wanted to go.

"I was just--" she faltered. Realization dawned on him.

"Oh, Casey, no!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "Don't tell me that was _your_ house!"

"No!" she lied hastily. "It was my friend's house."

"Well, you still shouldn't be creeping around. People will think you're a prowler, or a pervert," he laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought, "and then the cops will pick you up ," he paused for dramatic effect, "and we _both_ know what happens after that." Trevor wrapped an arm around her back and continued leading her away.

"But…"

"Trust me, Casey. This is for your own good." She didn't look convinced. Sighing, he added, "Plus, it's January and raining heavier by the minute. We'll be lucky if we don't catch hypothermia if we leave _now_." She couldn't argue with common sense.

"Think we can stay at Brandon's?" Casey asked as they started running for it. Grounded in reality once again, Casey was eager to find shelter and get out of the nearly frozen precipitation that felt like tiny, icy needles stabbing her skin.

"Never hurts to ask. Come on."

* * *

"Dude, her temperature is one hundred and four. You _need _to take her to the hospital," Brandon argued, staring at the open crack in the bathroom door. He could see Trevor placing Casey in the tub, but her decency was still intact since the gothic boy's body was in the way. The brunette was still wearing her under-garments, but Trevor had insisted on fully preserving her modesty by keeping their host out of the bathroom. 

"Are you kidding? They'd have _both_ of us in police custody just as soon as she was discharged," Trevor retorted, hostility lacing his voice.

"You'd prefer her dead?"

"She isn't going to die. If her temperature goes up any higher, _then_ we'll go. But if we can bring it down, we can avoid a hospital visit."

"Please stop arguing," Casey whimpered pitifully.

"Whatever you want, princess." Trevor tenderly brushed the hair off of her face and then pressed his hand to her forehead. He frowned. "She still feels way too hot. Go get some ice."

"But shouldn't we just--" The punk boy gave Brandon a look that stopped him in his tracks. "Ice, right. Be back in a sec."

When Brandon came back, he handed a big bowl of ice to Trevor, who then poured it into the tub. After a moment, Casey shifted and moaned.

"That's really cold," she complained.

"Sorry about that, but we _have_ to bring your fever down."

"But--"

"Hey, haven't I always taken care of you?" A smile graced her face.

"Yeah, you have."

"Just trust me then." Trevor kissed her forehead and noticed that she felt slightly less feverish. "It's already working."

"You sure?" Brandon asked nervously.

Without looking, he replied, "Hand me that thermometer you've been clutching for the last five minutes and I'll prove it."

"Here." The blonde complied, blushing. Trevor took Casey's temperature and smirked as it beeped at one hundred and two.

"Told you," he boasted, handing it back so that Brandon could see for himself.

"All right, but she should still go see a doctor."

"We'll go to the free clinic tomorrow," Trevor assured him.

"Okay. Anything else I can do?"

"Nope. I got it from here," he answered. Brandon nodded and turned to leave when Trevor called out to him. "Thanks, by the way."

"Anything for a friend."

* * *

A week and a half later, Casey was fully recovered. Trevor had taken her to the free clinic--just like he promised--and the doctor there prescribed some medication after rebuking them for running around in the freezing weather. Still, they had what they needed and it was time for them to plan their next move.

"Hey, Brandon, can I borrow your phone?"

"Local?"

"Yeah."

"Sure, but who else do you know in the area--if you don't mind me asking?" he replied, holding the phone out to her.

"Just a friend," Casey answered vaguely, praying that he wouldn't press further for details. The blonde looked suspicious but shrugged and let her walk away with it anyway. Her fingers trembled as she silently rattled off the phone number. After a moment of hesitation, she started punching digits. '_Just breathe_.' One ring. '_Come on. You have nothing to be afraid of._' Two rings. '_You don't even have to say anything_.'

"Hello?" Panic rushed through her like an electric shock and she dropped the phone. "Hello? Is anyone there?" Casey scrambled to pick it up and quickly ended the call. Hyperventilating, she stayed down on the floor, mind racing as she tried to regain her composure. She never expected _him_ to answer.

"Casey? Are you okay?" Brandon entered the room looking concerned. "I wasn't eavesdropping or anything, I promise," he said quickly. "I just heard a loud noise and came to check on you."

"Oh, I just dropped the phone," she explained. "I'm fine." Faking a smile, she breathed normally and hoped that he wouldn't ask any more questions _or_ tell Trevor. After her lone expedition a week and a half ago, the punk was already suspicious and Casey didn't want him to find out that she was breaking her promise.

* * *

A week later, Trevor was talking about moving to Quebec. He thought it would be a nice change of pace and maybe the two of them could pick up a little French--depending on where they went. 

"But what about bus fare? Aren't we down to our last few bucks?" Casey inquired.

"No, we still have fifty left in the emergency fund," Trevor corrected her.

"Right, in the _emergency_ fund. What if we use it all up on the way and there's, well, an actual emergency?" Casey asked stubbornly.

"And you think sticking around London is a _better_ idea? What if we run into someone you know and they recognize you? We can't risk it." He paused, studying her expression for a moment. "Unless that's what you're _hoping_ for…" Still terrible at lying, especially to someone who knew how to read her so well, the brunette sighed and looked away. Trevor groaned. "Casey, you _know_ you can't go back."

"But--"

"You promised me. After everything I've done for you, I only asked for _one_ thing in return," he reminded her firmly.

"I know, Trevor, but--" The teenage girl sighed and nodded. Past experience combined with the look on his face told her that she couldn't win the argument and would only ruffle feathers by trying. "Okay."

"I just want to protect you," Trevor replied, looking somewhat ashamed.

"You do," Casey assured him, resting her hand on his arm. He smiled. '_But what if you're wrong?_'

* * *

"So, how was your day at school?" Nora asked, smiling at her eldest stepson.

"Fine." Derek continued to stare at his food. He wasn't exactly happy with his stepmother at the moment. Their argument from earlier that week was still all too fresh in his mind.

_"Derek, she was _my_ daughter and you have no say in this!" Nora yelled angrily, face turning red from the strain._

_"Was? _Was?_" he repeated incredulously. "She is _still_ your daughter Nora. Casey is _not_ dead!" His voice lowered dangerously. "And I can't be_lieve_ that you've already given up on her."_

_"I have to, Derek. I have other children to take care of. I have a husband to look after and I have a job to get back to," Nora argued defensively. "We don't all have the luxury of living in the past like you do!" Her words seemed to reverberate throughout the room. There was no pretending that the rest of the house--which only contained George and Lizzie at the time, thank goodness--hadn't heard them scream at each other for the last thirty minutes. _

_"All right, Nora, if _you_ want to erase her from your life, then that's your right," he replied quietly. Then his face screwed up angrily as he continued, "But you have _no_ right to tell Marti that _she_ has to do the same thing."_

_"I never said--"_

_"No! You never said anything!" He was back to bellowing. "You just went through her room and took out everything that she had to remember her by! Pictures, notes, artwork, old gifts…all _gone_!" Tears filled the middle-aged woman's eyes. _

_"I'm just doing what's best for her," she replied tremulously. "That's my job, to take care of her. I'm her mother."_

_"_Step_mother," Derek corrected coldly. "And Dad, Edwin, and I can take care of Marti just fine. So just stay out of it," he growled before storming away._

In retrospect, his words sometimes seemed much harsher than need-be, but then he remembered the crushed look on his little sister's face when she discovered that all of her souvenirs of Casey had disappeared. It didn't help that Nora was still refusing to divulge the location of the items. Luckily for him, Derek had stashed away all of _his_ memorabilia the day after the anniversary. The only things that he hadn't hidden away were the two items that he kept in his wallet. The first was her last school picture and the other was much more personal.

The second item was a crumpled scrap of paper with neat scrawl covering the front of it. A few months after Casey had run away--once he got over his anger--he felt an overwhelming need to be close to her. Since that wasn't possible, he settled for the next best thing and sneaked into her room. At first, he had just lied on her floor and let his thoughts consume him. But after an interminable amount of time had pass--somewhere between one hour and five--he had risen with a mission.

_Derek leapt up from the floor. Casey had kept a diary. In fact, he was sure that she had kept _several_ diaries over the years that they had lived together. '_I need to know._' Ever since his stepsister vanished, Derek had thought more and more about how much he missed her. _

_Over the last month or so, the brunette found himself having strange dreams where Casey returned home. That wasn't the strange part. He had those kinds of dreams at least twice a week. But the new visions had an unexpected twist. For example, in his dream the night before, after Casey had announced that she was home to stay and apologized for everything, she had run into his arms and pulled him into an earth-shattering kiss, which he had eagerly returned._

_As much as he hated to consider the possibility, he was coming closer every day to accepting that his feelings for Casey had evolved. He had attributed it to hormones and his emotions going on overdrive the first couple of weeks, but then he had dreams where they exchanged proclamations of love instead of fiery kisses. And though he'd never admit it, the best ones involved both._

But, to his great disappointment, Derek never found any of Casey's journals. He could only assume that she had taken them with her, someone else had already taken them, or she had disposed of them somehow. However, he _did_ manage to find something.

Carefully copied onto a piece of paper was the following:

_All this feels strange and untrue  
And I won't waste a minute without you  
My bones ache, my skin feels cold  
And I'm getting so tired and so old_

_The anger swells in my guts  
And I won't feel these slices and cuts  
I want so much to open your eyes  
Cause I need you to look into mine_

_Tell me that you'll open your eyes  
Tell me that you'll open your eyes  
Tell me that you'll open your eyes  
Tell me that you'll open your eyes _

_Get up, get out, get away from these liars  
Cause they don't get your soul or your fire  
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine  
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time  
Every minute from this minute now  
We can do what we like anywhere  
I want so much to open your eyes  
Cause I need you to look into mine_

_Tell me that you'll open your eyes  
Tell me that you'll open your eyes  
Tell me that you'll open your eyes  
Tell me that you'll open your eyes  
_

_All this feels strange and untrue  
And I won't waste a minute without you_

After days of searching, he had found out that the song was called "Open Your Eyes" and it was written and performed by a group called Snow Patrol. Normally, a lyric sheet wouldn't have kept captured his attention, but it was so out of place that he'd been possessed by a burning desire to know. Once he discovered the source, and that it wasn't Casey herself, he threw it away. But then something caught his eye. The writing was small and hard to decipher, but there was no arguing that his name had been written on the back.

Many months later, Derek still wasn't sure if it meant anything, but he liked to imagine that the song described how Casey felt about him. Even though he knew that he should let go, Derek found that he just couldn't stop thinking about her. And a part of him didn't want to.

* * *

Almost a month had gone by since the one-year mark passed on Casey's disappearance. Even Derek--who had become the personal crusader for Casey's return--was losing hope. He had long since passed pathetic and feared that he was border-lining on obsessive. At any given moment, he could rattle off how many days it had been since Casey's disappearance in a matter of seconds. In three days, it would make thirteen months.

But was driving him even crazier than…well…his own _craziness_, was the prank caller. In his earlier years, Derek had been a fervent advocate of this form of pranking, but after receiving three calls every day that week, he wanted to go back in time and strangle himself. Or, better yet, find and dismember the bastard who was driving him insane.

The phone rang. '_Speak of the devil._' Determined to ignore it, the brunette turned on the hockey game and cranked up the volume. But he still heard the next ring.

"I'm not getting that!" Still, it kept on ringing. "Can no one else get the phone?"

When it rang for the fifth time, Derek couldn't take it anymore. He sprang from his recliner and angrily crossed the room to get to the phone. Yanking it out of its cradle and punching the 'on' button, he exploded.

"All right, listen up, you little jerk. I don't know _who _you are or why you're so determined to put me in a straitjacket, but if you call this house one more time, I will personally hunt you down and rip your throat out." A click followed by a dial tone was his only response, the same as always. He slammed the phone down and groaned as he buried his face in his hands.

* * *

The next day went by without any prank calls and Derek breathed a sigh of relief. He assumed that it had been some punk kid who'd gotten scared when the hockey player went ballistic on him. So when the phone rang that afternoon, he didn't hesitate at all to pick it up.

"Hello?" He waited for a response, but didn't get one. "_What_ is your deal?" The silence continued. "Look, whoever you are, this has _got_ to stop. If you're going to prank call people like this, you have to switch it up every now and then. If you stick to the same person for long enough, they're going to call it stalking and call the police." He paused again, curious if he might get a response. Then he continued, feeling strangely compelled to go on. "Unless you're no random caller. I mean, I can't think of anyone who'd be…who'd be…" he trailed off as his mind started forming a conclusion. A shiver ran down his spine. "Casey?" Derek could've sworn that he'd heard a sharp intake of breath from the other end. "Casey? Hello? Hello? Oh!" In his excitement, the phone slipped right out of his hands and fell to the floor. He dropped to his knees and scrambled for the fallen object, but only heard a dial tone when he pressed it to his ear once again. He groaned in frustration.

Why hadn't he considered it before? Wasn't he all but proclaiming her impending return with a megaphone? He didn't have any proof that it was Casey, but something in his gut told him that he was right. With another groan, he smacked himself in the face. '_And I _yelled_ at her._'

If he hadn't already tried and failed before, hoping to catch the supposed prankster, Derek would've attempted to call back. So all he could do was wait and pray that she would try again.

* * *

Three days later, Derek was still waiting for that call. For days, he'd been racing the rest of his family to the phone and had snatched it up countless times, daring to hope that it was Casey. Every time someone else greeted him--and a few asked him if he felt all right--his heart withered. Each night, he lied awake for hours, wondering if he'd ruined any chance that they had of Casey deciding to come back. Then when he finally _did_ fall asleep, he had nightmares. He always dreamed about Casey's homecoming and it always ended the same way. The middle part was the only difference. Either Derek was snide--telling her she shouldn't have come back--or Casey looked down on him and declared the family unworthy of her presence. Both ended with his stepsister walking away.

With Casey on his mind all the time, Derek was too distracted to concentrate on anything else. The first day, he forgot his lunch and had to mooch off of his friends. Then, he kept scoring in the wrong goal at hockey practice. And--the icing on the cake--Derek walked into a pole on the way home, giving him a black eye, a massive headache, and a severe ego bruising.

The second day, Derek forgot to do his Spanish homework--which he started doing four months after Casey left, hoping to surprise and delight her when she came home. He also forgot to do the reading for Anatomy the day before and thusly failed the pop quiz. When he went to hockey practice, he managed to keep his focus on the game for about an hour, at which point he started running into other players.

On the third day, he used up all of the hot water and was yelled at by all three of his siblings. Then he missed breakfast and got caught eating his lunch in his History class. In detention, Derek had nearly punched Tinker Tomlin for pestering him about Casey. It was annoying enough that Tinker was obsessed with his stepsister, but having to actually _listen_ to the redhead babble about her made Derek want to bash his head in.

So, after a long and tiresome day, it wasn't surprising that Derek was particularly high-strung when he arrived home. Of course, the sight that greeted him when he opened the front door would have startled him _any_ day.

"Woah!"

It felt as if he had stuck a fork in an electrical socket. There, standing in the foyer--less than ten feet away from him--stood Casey McDonald. His heart leapt out of his chest and everything else faded out of view. She was back. The moment that he had dreamed about for what felt like forever--and worried would never come--had finally arrived.

"But not that much." Suddenly, Derek could move again. His eyes flickered to the unfamiliar speaker. Flanking his stepsister was a boy their age that was dressed all in black and looked surprised yet amused. Jealous and suspicious of the punk's proximity to Casey, the eldest of George's sons struggled not to pin the dark-haired boy to the wall to interrogate him--or, better yet, simply throw him out the door. Looking between them--and noticing that Casey's new style mimicked his--he assumed that tossing out her _companion_ would not go over well.

Somehow, the moment wasn't panning out quite how he had pictured it.

* * *

**A/N:** I have mixed feelings about this chapter, but overall I like how it turned out. Thanks for all of your reviews so far! Please keep giving me feedback, particularly to how you feel about the characters and the situations. I usually set out to try to provoke certain feelings about certain actions or certain characters and I'd love to hear if I succeeded. And, of course, I want to hear if I didn't so that I can try better next time. 


	3. It's Just a Place I'm Looking For

**Chapter 3 : It's Just A Place I'm Looking For**

_"I don't know your thoughts these days  
We're strangers in an empty space  
I don't understand your heart  
It's easier to be apart."  
- _Keane_, We Might As Well Be Strangers  
_

Casey tested the doorknob and was immensely grateful that it was unlocked. Then, squelching her urge to run away, she swung open the door and stepped inside. The way that Trevor followed her without hesitation tightened the knot in her stomach. He trusted her and she was betraying him.

"So, I can't wait to see this amazing punk CD collection," Trevor said, looking around curiously as Casey shut the door behind them. '_I can't do this. I have to tell him the truth before anyone sees us._'

"Uh, confession time." She walked ahead of him and turned around, straining to focus on the punk boy in front of her instead of the home she had so dearly missed. "I don't have a punk CD collection."

"Really?" Trevor didn't sound surprised.

'_And this is _my_ house, not some friend's who is holding on to said collection._' But she didn't have time to add the rest because a scream interrupted them, coming from behind her. Whipping around, Casey came face to face with her youngest stepsibling.

"Uh, Marti, Marti, it's okay. Trevor is a friend," she assured her. Her heart hammered in her chest. It was all happening too fast.

"I'm sorry, Trevor." It was easier to focus on someone who wasn't likely to cry or yell at her.

"Nah, it's cool. I get that all the time." Then the door opened behind him and Derek Venturi stepped inside. Casey's heart raced and she blamed it on nerves and excitement. She couldn't be in love with him anymore.

"Woah!" He didn't even seem to register Trevor's presence. His eyes were locked on her. It seemed like time had stopped, freezing the scene and stretching it out just to torment her.

"Casey?" Time caught up with them as the punk boy looked at her in confusion. "I thought they were expecting us…" Thankfully, the all too apparent guilt on her face said everything. "Ah. I see." Disappointment tinged by anger flashed in his eyes, but he quickly masked it behind calm acceptance. The brunette sighed, relieved that he wouldn't abandon her just yet. She needed him now more than ever.

A thick, intense silence fell between all of them. What could you say to the family you left behind? What could you say to the one who did the leaving?

"Is it really you?" a small, shaky voice asked. Casey turned to look at Marti, who was still half-hidden by the railing on the stairs. Seemingly struck mute by the question, the brunette could only nod slowly in response, holding her breath as she anticipated her stepsister's reaction.

This seemed to break whatever spell had held the child captive and she leapt forth to throw her arms around Casey's waist, clutching her tightly as if--should she let go--she might disappear again.

Tears filled both of their eyes as the brunette pried Marti's arms loose enough for her to kneel and wrap the little girl in her arms. Even the two witnesses felt their hearts constrict at the sight, though both were far too macho to give any indication of such.

"Don't ever leave me again," she choked through sobs.

Stroking her hair soothingly, Casey cautiously replied, "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere." It was specific enough to comfort Marti, while vague enough to keep Casey from feeling too guilty when she moved away for college.

Blue eyes flickered onto brown. Derek hadn't said a word since they startled him. He held her gaze and she saw disbelief, excitement, guilt, worry, and a million other emotions reflected in his eyes. They both wished desperately that the other would speak first and since _she_ had been the one to leave, Casey supposed that it was up to her to break the ice.

"Hi, Derek," she said softly.

"Hey, Casey." All was still and silent for a moment, except for the sound of Marti's crying. Then, looking between the two, Trevor realized that he had been forgotten. The black-haired teenager felt horribly out of place and decided that it might be best if he quietly stepped out and talked to Casey later.

As if snapping out of a trance, Casey's head jerked when she heard the front door open. Had it not been for Marti, she would have jumped up and grabbed his arm, physically restraining him from leaving. She pinned him with her gaze instead.

"Where are you going?" Desperation and fear laced her voice.

"I don't think I should be here for this," Trevor responded gently.

"What? But--" She trailed off, looking helpless and pleading at the same time. They stared at each other in a wordless exchange, silently saying, '_I don't belong here,_' and '_I can't do this alone_'.

"Please stay."

"Okay." Trevor reluctantly moved away from the door and stood by Casey. He still thought that his presence would only complicate matters.

After an awkward beat, Trevor asked, "So, you're Casey's stepbrother?"

"Derek Venturi," he replied gruffly, stiffly putting his hand out.

"Trevor Jones." He shook his hand, looking nothing but friendly and Casey smiled. It was obvious that she hoped that the punk would get along well with her family and vice versa. "So, how do you know Casey?" Derek asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"We met a little over a year ago, in New York."

"So that would make you…?"

"A friend who's looked after me," Casey interjected hastily.

Derek was about to challenge this statement when the back door opened and shut, voices carrying into the living room. '_Oh no._'

"No, Edwin, you have to take the _function_ of x and--"

"No, _Lizzie_, you have to invert the equation first," Edwin challenged. They could hear rummaging around in the kitchen as the pair made themselves a snack.

"Please, I got a ninety-eight on the last test and _you_ only got a ninety-two. I think I know more about math," Lizzie argued.

Casey paled and subconsciously pulled Marti closer to her, who had stopped crying but refused to loosen her hold. '_Lizzie_.' It took all of her strength not to leap back and run out the door. Her stomach lurched in dread as her head spun with thoughts about her younger sister. '_She'll be furious. She probably hates me. I never should have come back._'

Derek's chest swelled with sympathy. Even _he_ was beginning to feel renewed stirrings of anger towards her, but they were far overtaken by pity and fear that all of the emotional consequences of her actions--acted out by her family members--would drive her out of their arms again.

"I'll go see if I can somehow make this easier," Derek whispered as he placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Thank you." She gave him a watery smile. He returned it and strode out of the living room, glancing behind him to make sure Casey was still there before he turned the corner.

* * *

"Hey, guys, how was school?" Derek asked. Years of lying and practicing deception had helped him under many circumstances, but even the Lord of the Lies couldn't hide his anxiety. 

"Good. Is something wrong?" Edwin asked suspiciously.

"No, no. Nothing's wrong," he assured them quickly. Lizzie and Edwin shared a look that clearly stated that they didn't believe him. "Honestly, it's a good thing!" He hesitated, realizing that it was very important that he was careful with his words. The middle children looked at him expectantly.

"Um, well, I don't really know how to say it," Derek said, swallowing thickly. Gathering up his courage he quickly blurted, "Casey's back."

The middle children's eyes popped and they both looked taken aback.

"B-back?" Edwin repeated, looking nervous yet somewhat hopeful. Unable to speak, his older brother merely nodded in assent. "She's back, as in, she's _here_?" he asked. Once again, Derek nodded.

"Lizzie?" Derek tried to gauge her reaction, but it was as if she was paralyzed. Yet, he could see her brain was whirring with frenzied activity. "Lizzie, are you okay?"

Suddenly, without a word or any indication that she had heard him, the younger teen turned and fled, running out the back door. It was only when it crashed closed behind her that Edwin snapped out of shock and took after her.

"Lizzie! Wait!"

Looking like a deer caught in headlights, Derek willed himself to move, but he felt as if his whole body was made of cement. '_What just happened?_' Panic flooded him as he wondered if they would have to lose one McDonald girl in exchange for the other.

* * *

"Lizzie!" Ignoring the stitch in his side, Edwin gasped for air as he pumped his legs, trying to catch up with the human blur in front of him. '_When the heck did she get so fast?_' "Lizzie! It's just me. Come on!" If she heard him, she didn't slow down. 

The dark-haired boy chased his stepsister for four blocks before she finally slowed and collapsed in the grass. As he got closer, Edwin saw that her chest was shuddering with sobs as she gasped for air. He dropped to his knees beside her and gathered her into his lap, folding her legs over his. Small fists clutched the back of his shirt as hot tears dampened his collar and rolled onto his neck.

"Shh, it's okay." Edwin gently rocked her back and forth, remembering how he had seen Nora comfort her the same way the day that Casey left.

_"She can't. She _can't_ be gone!" Lizzie cried in distress, knocking over her chair as she rose from the table. _

_"Lizzie," George began, glancing at Nora with uncertainty, but receiving no response. The mother was staring at the table in front of her, lost in thought. "That's just what the letter says. I'm sure that she'll come back."_

_"Of _course_ she will," she lashed out. "It's just a bid for attention or something. She's just trying to make us all feel guilty for being mad at her." Even as she spoke, Lizzie looked afraid. _

_"I don't think--" George started._

_"Who _cares_what you think?" she interrupted. "You don't know Casey at _all_! This is just her way of getting back at us." She growled in frustration. "This is just like her to be so selfish, not caring who she hurts as long as she gets her way. She's just like _you_, Derek."_

_Derek's head snapped up at the mention of his name and he scowled at her. _

_"Hey! I'm not the one who gave her the silent treatment for over a week," he shot back._

_"Yeah, well, I'm not the one who_ literally _pushed her out the door!" Lizzie argued, walking around the table to yell in his face. He mirrored her movements._

_"You didn't stop me! You didn't tell her not to go!" The younger child froze in horror. Then her face screwed up in a mixture of anger and grief._

_"I didn't think she meant it!" Lizzie cried defensively, hostility crumbling into remorse. Then, shaking with sobs, she crumpled to the floor and Derek breathed in sharply. He didn't do tears. He couldn't _handle_ crying girls, especially ones that weren't Marti._

_To his relief, Nora snapped out of her trance and swooped down on her daughter. She picked her up into her lap and rocked her back and forth, shushing her gently. Lizzie clung as if to a life raft and continued to cry._

_"It's okay, Lizzie. She'll come back." Nora gazed at the door, looking through it and picturing her eldest child. "She'll come back."_

"She can't be back," Lizzie gasped mournfully. "I don't want to see her, Edwin. Why did she have to come back now?"

"I wish I knew, Liz," Edwin replied, trying to ignore the guilt that was knotting up his insides. He _did_ want to see Casey. The truth was that he was glad that she was back. But, looking down at his miserable stepsister, he felt like a traitor.

* * *

"Lizzie! Wait!" Casey's heart clenched as she heard the back door open and shut for the second time. She could guess what had happened. Trevor gave her a sympathetic look, but his eyes held a mixture of bitterness and haughtiness. It was very seldom that the punk boy was tempted to rub it in when he was right, but Casey's betrayal had hurt and angered him. The fact that he had stayed by her side anyway was a testament to how much he cared about her. 

Just then, Derek opened the kitchen doors and re-joined the group. The look on his face confirmed Casey's suspicions. _'What have I done? She hates me. They probably all hate me. What am I doing here? I never should have come back_.' Tears filled her eyes and she looked down to hide them. But a hand clapped onto each of her shoulders and she found herself looking into the face of Derek Venturi. He was about to say something, but they were interrupted by the sound of the back door opening and closing.

"Hey, kids, I'm home early!" Nora called from the kitchen. Casey's eyes widened and flickered in the direction of her mother's voice,

"Mom," she whispered hoarsely, choking on emotion. Before Derek could even attempt to run interference, footsteps approached the living room and there she was. Nora looked more tired than her daughter had remembered her, but, in her eyes, she was radiant. Nora screamed in shock, clapping her hand to her mouth as she froze in the doorway.

"Smarti, how about we go upstairs and I'll put on your favorite CD," Derek suggested, looking back and forth between the two McDonald women.

"No, I don't want to leave Casey!" she protested as she clung tightly to her stepsister's shirt. The teenager snapped out of her trance and plastered on a fake smile.

"It's okay, Marti," she assured her. "I'll be here when you get back," she promised as she smoothed the child's hair. Though she didn't look quite satisfied, Marti let Derek carry her up to her room.

Once the youngest Venturi was out of earshot, Casey rose to her feet and stepped toward her mother. The movement hurled Nora back into reality and she looked her daughter up and down.

"Casey?" she whispered in disbelief.

"In the flesh," she replied, wiping her eyes as tears poured down her cheeks. Her mother stifled a sob.

"Oh my God." A steady flow of tears trickled down Nora's face as well. "Oh my God!" Then she ran forward and captured the blue-eyed teenager in a tight embrace. "I can't believe you're here—_actually_ here!" Nora exclaimed between sobs and raining kisses all over Casey's forehead, cheeks, and hair. The daughter overflowed with relief, regret, joy, and guilt—all at once.

"I'm so sorry, Mom," Casey apologized tremulously.

"I know, baby. I know. It's okay," Nora responded soothingly, stroking her long brown hair as every cell in her body resonated with joy and relief. '_My baby is here. I'm holding her safe and sound in my arms._' It felt like a heavenly dream--one that she _never_ wanted to wake up from.

Meanwhile, Trevor stood off to the side, trying not to intrude on the moment. Once again, he felt horribly out of place and wanted nothing more than to turn around and slip back into the shadowy night. '_But I can't do that to Casey. She needs me. And if things turn out the way I think they will, she'll need me now more than ever._'

_"How _dare_ you! What are you doing here?"_

_"I…I…"_

_"Get out."_

_"But--"_

_"I _said_ get out!"_

"Trevor?" Casey's voice snapped him back to the present.

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," he lied, smiling to reassure her.

"Um, Casey, who exactly is Trevor?" Nora hadn't noticed the gothic-looking boy until Casey said his name. She tried not to stare or reveal her discomfort, but the stranger in her living room looked like some kind of cult member.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot to introduce the two of you. Mom, this is my friend, Trevor. Trevor, this is my mom."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. McDonald." The brunette stuck out his hand politely and Nora shook it.

"And it's nice to meet _you_, Trevor," she returned graciously. Then an awkward silence fell over the trio.

"You have a lovely home," Trevor offered, trying to break the tension.

"Thank you." Once again, silence swallowed up the room. Casey rubbed her arm nervously as anxiety came over her again. Doubt twisted her stomach into knots as she thought about Lizzie, Edwin, and George's reactions. Lizzie would be the worst, but what about the others? '_Be rational, Casey. George will probably be the most forgiving and it's insulting for you to assume that he would be anything but kind._' As for Edwin, only time could tell. It was possible that he would be angry himself and even angrier on the rest of the family's behalf. The kid was unpredictable.

"Your room hasn't changed much," Nora said in a wobbly voice. "I…uh…I kept it clean, but it's mostly the same." The brunette gave her daughter a wavering smile as she thought about her youngest daughter's meltdown and the damage that Lizzie had wreaked on Casey's belongings. Fortunately, most of it had been repairable, except for a couple of posters that she hoped would go unnoticed. Nora didn't want to tell Casey what happened on that day. She just wanted to leave it all behind them, everything that had happened since Casey ran away from home.

"Would you mind if I showed Trevor my room?" Casey asked tentatively, wanting to get away from the swarm of emotions that were suffocating her. Really, she wanted to leave the house, but she didn't want to scare her family again.

"Oh, sure. That's fine," Nora answered quickly. '_Upstairs, alone with a boy I don't know? Well, you've had plenty of time to be alone with him already, if you wanted to._' She watched her teenage daughter lead the punk boy upstairs and felt pinpricks of anxiety. '_And how can I tell you no when any second you could disappear again?_'

"I should call George," she realized suddenly. Without hesitation, Nora dug in her purse for her cell phone and whipped it out. Her fingers were hovering over the number pad when she _did_ pause. She was about to make a very important phone call--one that should be made in private. Nora picked up her purse and quickly changed locations.

After Nora closed the door to her and George's bedroom, she quickly dialed her husband's cell phone number. Each ring increased her anxiety as she wondered what she would do if he didn't pick up. Should she leave him a message? Should she call him on his work line?

"Hey, sweetheart."

"Oh, George, I'm so glad you picked up," Nora said with relief.

"Why? Is something wrong? Is it the kids?" George asked, sounding panicky.

"No, no, no. Nothing's wrong," she quickly assured him. "Actually, something's right. Something that hasn't been right in a long time," she continued vaguely. "I mean, it's complicated, but it's the good kind of complicated. I think…"

"What? What is it?"

"She's back." There was silence on both ends of the line. George didn't have to ask who "she" was. Even though the family had been working towards moving on, Casey and her disappearance had lingered in the back of everyone's minds.

"What do you mean 'she's back'?"

"She came home," Nora clarified, sounding frightened and excited--like a child trying their first ride on a bicycle.

"She just…showed up?" He couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"Yes. Well, I don't know. I think so. I came home early today and there she was, holding Marti in our living room," she recounted. "Derek was there too. He took Marti upstairs. Oh! Casey brought a friend with her."

"Wait, wait, wait," George requested. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I have so many questions that I don't know where to start," he murmured thoughtfully. "Did she look okay?"

"She looked healthy and well taken care of, except for her clothes," Nora answered. "They were a little tattered and dirty, but that could be part of the look, as far as I know."

"Part of the look?"

"Well, she was dressed kind of punk-y."

"Oh." His brow furrowed as he tried to picture Casey dressed in black, wearing heavy makeup, and he just couldn't see it.

"But so was the boy with her."

"Boy?"

"Her friend, Trevor," Nora filled in.

"Oh." He took a deep breath. "Well, is she home to stay?" There was a long pause.

"I--I don't know."

* * *

"So, is it just like you pictured it?" Casey asked as she led Trevor inside her room. Her eyes scanned the familiar surroundings. Some of her dance posters were gone, but her favorites were still hanging on the wall. _'I wonder what happened to them._' Her books filled the shelves, nearly overflowing them, and all over the room there were girly touches of decoration. 

"Casey," Trevor turned around and closed the door. Hoping that they wouldn't be interrupted, he continued, "We need to talk." The brunette's face fell, eyes reflecting guilt.

"I know," she replied pitifully. "I just…" She sunk down onto her bed and gestured for him to join her. Once he was settled, she tried again. "I really,_ really_ wanted to come back, but I knew that I couldn't go through all this by myself." He nodded, encouraging her to go on. "So, I broke my promise _and_ I lied to you." Casey paused, breathing deeply. "And I'm not sorry."

"What?"

"I'm not sorry," she repeated, standing up and pacing back and forth. "I'm not sorry because I needed--no, _need_--you and I don't think I could have made it this far without you." Her breaths were coming faster. "I know that it's completely unfair to you and that I'm a selfish person for doing it, but I," she sniffled as tears welled in her eyes, "I just…" Warm tears poured down her cheeks.

"Hey, hey, hey now." Trevor jumped to his feet and gently pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back in a comforting manner. Then he chuckled and Casey felt the vibrations in her cheek, which was pressed into the crook of his neck. "You know it's not fair to cry when I'm trying to be mad at you. That's cheating," he teased. Laughter bubbled up in Casey's throat, but she just smiled.

Suddenly, the door swung open behind them, revealing Derek, who looked quite startled.

"Oh, sorry, um…I didn't think that anyone would be in here," he apologized, looking flustered. Casey pulled out of Trevor's arms and, keeping her back to her stepbrother, carefully crossed the room without revealing her face.

"It's fine," she replied somewhat stiffly, attempting to conceal any waver in her voice that might give her away. The situation was awkward enough without Derek freaking out about her crying. So, she sneakily grabbed a tissue and dabbed her eyes with it. "I was just showing Trevor my old room," Casey explained.

"Uh huh." Derek eyed Casey's so-called friend suspiciously. What he had walked in on looked more like a passionate embrace than a friendly hug to him. '_But we got bigger problems than that right now._' Bitterly swallowing his jealousy, Derek commented, "It's still_ yours_, you know."

"What?" Casey had been distracted, trying to peek at her reflection to see if her makeup had smudged. She spun around to face him.

"The room--it's still yours," he clarified.

"Oh, right."

"I mean, you _are_ planning on staying, right?" Derek inquired. Guilt flashed across his stepsister's face.

"I--"

"Casey! Casey! Come look at the picture I drew," Marti insisted as she ran down the hallway and into her stepsibling's room. She grabbed her hand and gently tugged on it. Casey smiled. It had never been easy to resist those big brown eyes, especially when Marti was being sweet and adorable.

"Okay." Throwing an apologetic look at Trevor, Casey allowed her stepsister to lead her away. Just as they were passing through the doorway, she glanced at Derek, who crossed his arms and gave her a look that clearly said, "This isn't over."

After Derek was sure that his stepsister was out of earshot, he turned a suspicious eye on Trevor.

"So, just how long have you known Casey?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"Uh, well." Trevor paused to think about it. Just how long _had_ it been? Then he remembered. He met Casey in the end of January when he was heading over to his friend Chris's house.

_An icy wind bit his nose and cheeks as Trevor trudged through the snow. '_Just a few more blocks._' He tugged his jacket tighter around himself and watched his breath snake away from his mouth like smoke._

_"Ah!" Trevor jumped, startled, when he heard the feminine voice shriek in pain. Looking around, he tried to discern where the disturbance had come from. Noisy sobs and sniffles came from his right and as he looked down, he realized that someone was under the bridge._

_Concerned and a little curious, Trevor navigated around the railing and quietly walked down the hill, under the bridge. There, he saw a skinny girl with slightly frazzled brown hair, facing away from him as she curled her knees to her chest on the ground. Thankfully, the underside of the bridge was clear of snow, but it was still freezing._

_"Uh, hey, are you okay?" he asked tentatively. The girl quickly jumped to her feet and whipped around, wiping tears from her eyes._

_"What do you want?" she demanded, fire blazing in her eyes. At first, he thought she was angry, but then he saw that her hands were trembling at her sides, and not from the cold._

_"I just wanted to see if you were okay," he answered. "I heard you yell." The girl straightened, looking defensive._

_"I'm fine, thank you."_

_"Are you sure?"_

_"Positive. Now leave me alone." Trevor sighed and was about to walk away when he noticed that her clothes were dirty. '_And just what is she doing under a bridge, in the middle of winter, at night, all by herself?_' Then it hit him. '_Of course.

_"You're a runaway, aren't you?" he inquired. Her eyes flew open wide._

_"Oh, no, no. Not me," she denied. But it was written all over her face. She was lying._

_"It's okay, you know." Trevor sat down, resting his arms on his knees. Smiling warmly, he explained, "I ran away from home too." The brunette relaxed a bit, sitting down a couple of feet away from him. "How long have _you_ been on the streets?"_

_After a moment of hesitation, she answered, "About two weeks." Trevor nodded._

_"I figured about as much. What's your name, princess?"_

_"Princess!" She cried, offended. Despite his best efforts, Trevor laughed heartily._

_"What? You don't think it fits?" He teased._

_"No, no I don't." When she crossed her arms in front of her, jutting out her bottom lip and completing the picture, the punk boy doubled over. "Well, I'm _so_ glad that I could amuse you," she snapped. Trevor collected himself, still chuckling good-naturedly._

_"You are_definitely_ a princess," he announced, grinning cheekily. "So, unless you want me to keep calling you that, you're going to have to give me your name." _

_Continuing to sulk, the teenage girl, who he estimated to be about sixteen, refused to speak to him._

_"Oh, come on," he coaxed. "There's nothing wrong with being a princess. If the tiara fits, and all that." The corners of her lips tugged upwards. Though she tried to fight it, she couldn't suppress the smile._

_"Casey."_

_"I'm Trevor."_

"Just over a year."

"So, I guess the two of you are pretty close," Derek stated nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall.

"You could say that," he answered vaguely, observing Casey's stepbrother's reaction. The muscles in his jaw twitched. '_Hmm. I guess Casey was wrong about him._'

"Derek, could you come here for a minute?" Nora called from downstairs.

"Coming," Derek shouted back, giving Trevor one more mistrustful glance as he strolled out the door.

Following the sound of bustling about, Derek traveled to the kitchen and spotted his stepmother, who was in the middle of making dinner.

"You rang?"

"Huh?" Nora gave him a puzzled look and then her mouth formed an "o" as she remembered. "Yes. Ah, I was just wondering if you'd seen Edwin and Lizzie this afternoon." Derek sucked in a sharp breath. He'd forgotten about them in all of the chaos.

"Uh…"

"Oh no. What happened?" Derek considered lying, but given the seriousness of the situation, he decided against it. Swallowing thickly, he formulated a response.

"Well, uh, they got home around three fifteen and I headed them off in the kitchen to…uh…tell them the news about Casey." Nora's eyes widened.

"How did they take it?" The motherly concern in her voice only made it harder.

"Well, Edwin…uh…I don't know about him, but Lizzie was…" he trailed off, scratching his head. "Lizzie was pretty upset about it." Nora nodded in understanding. "And she ran out." A loud clang made Derek's eyes fly from the living room to the woman in front of him. She looked shocked. Guessing what had happened, his eyes flickered to the floor and found a large metal spatula that Nora had been cooking with. Gently, he bent over and picked up the cooking utensil, avoiding his stepmother's gaze.

After he dropped it in the sink, Nora snapped out of her daze and whirled on him.

"She ran out!" she cried in a panicky voice. Derek's eyes shot up in surprise. "What about Edwin?"

"He ran after her," Derek blurted out nervously.

"And you just let them go?" Nora asked incredulously.

"Well, I--" His stepmother held up a warning hand, eyes pinched shut.

"Just stay here and keep an eye on Marti while I go look for them," she instructed. Then Nora snatched up her purse and keys, and stormed out in a huff.

Derek flinched as the door slammed behind her. He snorted angrily. '_What was I supposed to do, leave Casey, Trevor, and Marti here all by themselves? Yeah, that's a great idea--stick Casey with babysitting when she hasn't even been home for thirty minutes. Besides, the kids haven't been gone that long._' After having some time to digest the situation, Derek was sure that his siblings would be fine. Edwin only ran out to look after Lizzie, and Derek figured that _Lizzie_ just needed some time to process, away from her sister. '_They'll look out for each other, just like they always do._'

* * *

The swings creaked as Edwin and Lizzie slowly swung back and forth, sitting side by side. Going to the park had been Edwin's idea. Even though it was mid-afternoon, their only company had been each other. Nowadays, all the children played at the larger, better-equipped park that was about a mile down the road. Smart kid that he was, Edwin figured that he and Lizzie could use a little privacy. 

Once Lizzie stopped crying, she was silent. Her stepbrother wished that she would say something, _anything_, just so that he would know that she was okay, but he didn't want to push her. So he quietly stayed by her side, hoping that it helped.

"Hey, Edwin?" He snapped to attention.

"Yeah?" Lizzie was silent for a moment and then she lightly hopped off of her swing.

"Let's go home." She flashed him a small smile and waited for him to join her, which, of course, he did. As he fell into step beside her, Edwin wondered what Lizzie was thinking. She seemed calm, as if she had somehow made peace with everything. '_But how could she just accept everything so fast?_' He was pretty sure that she couldn't and hadn't. But he wasn't going to ask. It was all going to have to come out eventually, and, knowing Lizzie, it would be sooner rather than later.

As they were walking home, headlights flashing and a car horn honking startled the pair. They whipped around and saw Nora driving towards them. '_This can't be good_.' Edwin swallowed thickly. Lizzie, however, seemed abnormally calm.

"Hi, Mom." Nora blinked, looking confused.

"Hi, Lizard. Hi, Edwin." She unlocked the car doors, waiting for them to climb in.

"Hey, Nora," Edwin greeted her awkwardly, pulling open the van door and holding it for Lizzie.

"Thank you." They both sat down in the middle seat and Edwin shut the door behind them.

"So, how was school?" Nora asked nervously, glancing at her children in the rearview mirror as she started driving.

"It was fine."

"It was _more_ than fine!" Lizzie insisted excitedly. "In math class, I whipped Jenny Crater on three different problems. She was _so_ embarrassed."

"Good for you," Nora responded, wishing that she knew what was going on in Lizzie's mind. Experience had taught her that Lizzie could be quite explosive, especially once she was confronted with the subject of her anger. Her eyes met Edwin's in the mirror and he gave her a helpless look. They could only imagine what would happen when they got home.

* * *

"And Dimi said that horses couldn't be purple, but he was wrong; so I colored her purple anyway," Marti explained, showcasing her picture. Casey smiled, tracing her finger over the horse's mane. 

"That's very good, Marti," she complimented as her eyes misted with tears. '_I can't believe I missed a whole year of her life._' Her eyes traveled over her eight-year-old stepsister. Some of her baby teeth had been replaced with her permanent ones and in couple of places there were simply gaps, promises of what was to come. She was taller as well, coming all the way up her elbow. '_Even her drawings have improved._'

"I really missed you, Casey," Marti commented in a quiet voice.

"Me too, kid." A few tears snaked down both of their cheeks as Casey captured her stepsister in a tight embrace. She had been gone for almost as long as she had lived with the Venturis, but that didn't seem to make her miss them any less.

A knock on the doorframe startled Casey and she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Yes?" she asked in a shaky voice, turning to the entrance.

"Mind if I borrow Casey for a while, Smarti?"

"Okay, Smerek," she assented reluctantly, turning to a fresh page in her drawing pad. Smiling fondly, Casey took a last look at Marti before following Derek out of the room. Wordlessly, he led her down the hallway and opened his door, gesturing for her to enter.

Once they were both inside, with the door closed, Derek sat down on his bed and pulled over his computer chair for Casey. She sat down and crossed her legs, waiting for him to begin. Obviously, Derek had something to say that he didn't want to say in front of young, innocent ears.

Derek cleared his throat and said in a raspy voice, "Look, none of this is easy for me to say, so try not to interrupt me or anything, okay?"

"Yeah, sure. I can do that," Casey assured him, sitting up straighter. Her stepbrother scratched the back of his neck, which was a nervous habit of his.

"I'm not good talking about…_feelings_, but I do happen to really…care…about you," he admitted, scarlet flushing his cheeks. He cleared his throat again. "And I'm really glad that you decided to come back home." Derek paused again, looking down at the floor as he clasped his hands together. "We missed you a lot and…um…" he trailed off. Taking a deep breath, his eyes raised to meet hers, looking frightened, "What I need to ask, need to _know_, is if you're home to stay or if this is just some kind of rest stop for you. Because if that's what it is, then I…no, _we_ need you to leave as soon as possible."

Adrenaline surged in Casey's veins. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and all of her nerves began to tingle. She knew that Derek was right. If she wasn't going to stay and reconnect with her family, then she was only torturing them with her presence. She was ripping open old wounds and unless she planned on staying and helping them heal properly, then she had no business being there at all.

"Look, I'm not trying to hurt you or drive you out of the family or anything," Derek blurted into the silence. He'd seen the deer-in-headlights look on her face and was attempting to do a little damage control. "I'm just trying to protect them from any more damage." He was lost for words. He wanted to explain to her just how much she had hurt their family, and how much she had hurt _him_. But, looking at her guilt-stricken face and her tear-filled eyes, he just couldn't. Suddenly, Derek felt a very strong urge to protect her. He wished that he could somehow shield her from the consequences of her actions.

Still, he had everyone else to think about, especially all of the younger kids. So, he braced himself to ask the million-dollar question.

"So, what's it going to be?"

* * *

**A/N:** Hey, guys! ducks rotten tomatoes being thrown in her direction Wow, you have good aim. I'm sorry that this chapter took so long and I'm _really_ sorry if it sucks! This one was really hard to write and I felt like I felt really pressured to make it as good and realistic as possible. I'm not quite satisfied with the result, but I don't want to deprive anyone any longer and I don't know if I could make it much better anyway. So, here it is. The next one, hopefully, won't take as long. Until then, adios!

* * *


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